William stilled, the muscles in his face rippling under the skin. “Your name is Martha.”
“Samantha,” Griffin said. “Samantha. That’s it!”
Everyone turned to look at him, his shout of realization completely out of place.
“Samantha! Samantha Hunter! I saw a picture of you on the news, one of those aged-up things they do in the computer, because it was the twelfth anniversary of . . .”
He faltered, a new realization in his eyes as he looked at William.
“Hey, that’s right!” C.P. said, peering at Mattie. “Now I remember, too. They said you were . . . Oh, shit.”
“What did they say?” Mattie asked.
“Don’t say another word, boy,” William said. His fingers were white on the handle of the shovel. “Don’t say another word.”
“What did they say?” Mattie asked again. “What did they say about me?”
“If you speak I will kill you,” William said. “I will kill you where you stand.”
Griffin pressed his lips together. Mattie sensed that he wasn’t restraining himself because of William’s threat, but because he was trying to be sensitive to her.
William shifted his weight, and Mattie glanced at him. Something had changed in his eyes. She saw realization, then calculation.
He’s going to kill them anyway.
These people knew William had done something wrong. He couldn’t have them going away and reporting that they’d found him.
That’s why he didn’t want anyone on the mountain looking for the creature. That’s why he never let me talk to anyone.
But something puzzled her. If he was in danger of being arrested for a crime, how could he walk into town like anyone else? How could he shop and speak to people?
They don’t know he did anything wrong. You’re the evidence. And if no one ever sees you then they won’t know what he is.
Griffin and C.P. and their thus-far-silent friend Jen knew. They could put William and Mattie together. And they could lead the police right to their door.
The three strangers were in more danger than they knew.
“Run, now,” she said. “Run away. He’s going to kill you. He can’t have anyone know what he’s done.”
“I’m not leaving you here with him,” Griffin said.
Mattie wanted to scream to the heavens. Griffin Banerjee was a very kind man, she could see that, but he needed to learn to listen when she spoke.
William moved then, like the sudden strike of a snake. Mattie saw the tensing of his muscles, knew exactly what was going to happen, and she darted in between him and the three strangers.
The shovel had been raised to strike a taller person than Mattie, so the edge of it only glanced off the side of her skull. It was enough to cut through her woolen hat and send her reeling, though. Blood poured down the side of her face, over her ear and down her neck. She heard Griffin and Jen and C.P. all shouting, their words a jumbled-up mess of noise.
“You goddamned little bitch!” William shouted. He was positively incandescent now, his fury brighter than she’d ever seen it. “How dare you stand in my way! How dare you defy me! YOU ARE MY WIFE! You are to obey me in all things!”
He threw the shovel to the ground and reached for her, his fingers closing around her neck.
I knew it would come to this. I always knew I’d never be able to get away from him. It was only a dream, a silly girl’s dream.
His giant’s hands squeezed her throat, his thumbs pressed against her windpipe, making her choke. She scrabbled at his arms with her hands, her small useless hands, her hands that had never been able to defend her from him.
“I should have killed you, too, long ago,” he said as his hands stole her breath. “Useless little bitch. Couldn’t even give me sons. I should have killed you after you lost the first one and got me a new wife, a better one, but I’d put so many years into you, training you in obedience, and I didn’t want to waste my work. I should have killed you then like I killed your mother.”
Her fingers stopped their fluttering movements as she stared into his ice-chip eyes.
Killed your mother.
I killed your mother.
William had killed her mother. Killed her mother and . . . stole her? Stole her away in the night?
What about Heather? What happened to Heather?
But she could hardly think now, because black spots were blooming before her eyes, black spots covered William’s face and his ice-chip eyes and the truth that she’d forgotten. Forgotten because he’d made certain that she’d forget.
Then she saw Griffin standing behind William, saw the upraised shovel, saw it coming down on William’s head. William’s hands relaxed and she stumbled away, coughing.
If Griffin thought that one blow would take William down, he was soon proved wrong, for William turned on the younger man, growling like an animal. William punched Griffin in the stomach before Griffin could hit him again with the shovel. Mattie thought that William would wrench the weapon from Griffin, but just then, Jen stepped into the fray. She held a large rock in her right hand and she slammed it into the side of William’s head with so much force that he staggered.
“Come on!” C.P. said, suddenly at Mattie’s side, wrapping his arm under her shoulders to keep her upright.
It felt so alien to have a stranger touch her that she nearly jerked away, but she had barely enough energy to stand. Her body felt like a thing that wasn’t attached to her head. She’d forgotten how to make all the parts move together. She slumped against C.P.’s side and he abruptly scooped her up into his arms.
“Jesus, there’s nothing to you,” C.P. muttered. He hurried away from William and Jen and Griffin, away from the direction of the cabin.
“Can’t . . . leave . . .” Mattie said. “Can’t . . . leave . . . them.”
“I’m not,” C.P. said, a little out of breath. He was carrying her as well as his gigantic pack, and even if she was small, it was still an extra burden on him.
